


Knife Party

by inkslinger_outlaw



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Depersonalization, Dissociation, Gen, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:26:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkslinger_outlaw/pseuds/inkslinger_outlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kids shouldn't play with knives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knife Party

**Author's Note:**

> here have more self harm trash
> 
> takes place after teeth and before happy_ending.exe

Frisk stares off into space sometimes.

They lose track of where they are and what they're doing until someone brings them back. Usually by shaking them or yelling.

They wish they wouldn't. It's nice to shut down for a while. To forget everything. Frisk wishes they could do it forever.

On this particular evening, they're standing in the kitchen. They're staring again. Completely non-responsive. They've got their eye on the knife block.

They have for the past twenty minutes.

Frisk doesn't know this though.

Without making a conscious decision, they move forward, heart hammering. They reach up and pull out the biggest steak knife. It gleams sickeningly in the dimly lit kitchen. Only moonlight highlighting the barest of surfaces.

And they stare at it until their eyes burn and Frisk swears they can hear haunting whispers in their ears.

Their hands tremble as they run the blade down the palm of their hand, slicing it open. They barely feel the sting, though. 

Frisk watches transfixed as blood pours down their hand, dripping with a soft splat onto the linoleum. 

This.

This is fine. They barely feel it.

They deserve this.

Frisk feels like there's static running through their body as blood continues to coat their hand. 

Wow. They must have cut their hand worse than they thought. 

They raise the knife and start making a deep slice into their left wrist. Pressing as hard as they can stand. God it burns. It feels like coming back home. They close their eyes, relishing in the sensation of hot, slick blood running down their skin. They missed this. So much. The soft sound of blood splattering as it hits the linoleum is like a lullaby.

They raise the knife, going to make another cut when the lights suddenly turn on and they hear a yell. 

"FRISK!"

Someone slaps their hand and the knife clatters to the floor, splattering blood everywhere. They stare at the pool of blood beneath them until someone tilts their face up. 

"Frisk! Knives are for cooking, not playing! ...Can you hear me?" 

...Dad?

He holds their arm in his large paw, staining it pink, then a dark red. 

"Oh, oh no. Frisk why would you do this?!"

They can't answer. They don't have an answer. Frisk's eyes start to close as they slump forward, getting dizzy.

"Frisk! Child! Frisk, please say something!" Before Frisk knows it they're being picked up, cuddled in warm, furry arms. "I'm calling an ambulance!" They try to shake their head no, but Asgore's having none of it. "Yes, Frisk!" Their eyes finally close completely until they're shaken awake. Asgore's on the phone with somebody. "Wake up! Frisk, you-you can not go to bed right now. You need to stay awake!" Frisk blearily open their eyes to their dad's face. Frisk can hear him sobbing as tears pour down his fuzzy cheeks.

"Don...No cryin'. M' fine..." It feels like their mouth is jammed with cotton as they force the words out. Frisk doesn't want their dad to cry. There's been too much sorrow already.

"You are certainly not fine!" Sirens wail in the distance, getting louder and louder until it feels like they're screaming in Frisk's ear. Somewhere far away they hear a door burst open, then the sound of running feet. 

"Sir, you need to give us the child." 

Frisk is reluctantly handed over and someone starts touching them. Touching their arm. Something's placed over their mouth and nose. The sensation of weightlessness startles Frisk until they're lain down on a flat surface.

They close their eyes again.

They don't wake back up.

[♥]

They first thing Frisk notices when they come back into themselves is a large arm across their torso. A chilly, hard hand holding onto theirs and then a large warm hand running through their hair. There's soft murmuring in the background. They try to open their eyes, but it feels like a weight been settled on them. 

"Mmm..." They try making a sound, but it feels like it comes from somewhere else. The hand on theirs tightens considerably and the ministrations with their hair stops. The room goes silent. 

"Frisk?" A scared whisper in their ear, almost afraid to hope.

"Nng..." Frisk tries again, but to not much result.

"Frisk, sweetheart, can you hear us?" Frisk attempts to squeeze the hand in theirs, only being able to get a couple finger twitches in. It's enough, though.

"They're awake!" 

Sans?

Frisk tries to cringe away from the following cacophony of noise.

"QUIET!" 

Dad, no yelling...

They whimper a little and somebody runs their fingers over Frisk's face. 

"Frisk, please open your eyes." That's mom... Slowly, they get their eyes open. Once the room comes into focus, the first thing Frisk sees is their mom.

They attempt a smile and try to go to move their arms, but they can't. Frisk looks down. Their hands are bound to the bed railings with soft cuffs.

"Wha-..." 

"Th-They did that s-so you w-w-wouldn't try to hurt yourself in here..."

Alphys... Is everyone here? What does she mean hurt myself?

Frisk thinks for a long moment, slowly piecing together everything.

The knife. Blood. Asgore's frightened eyes. Sirens.

No... Shit. They can't believe! Why did they do that?

Tears sting Frisk's eyes as they start to cry softly, making these horrible keening sounds. 

Toriel runs her paw through Frisk's hair again. 

"Shh, shh... Frisk, please do not cry. It will be fine." 

It won't be fine! Frisk wants to scream and shout, but can barely move as it is. No one will treat them the same after what they did. Intentionally or not. They're-They're going to be locked away forever! Everyone's going to think they're crazy! 

But... maybe they are. Hearing voices in their head and trying to kill themselves. For no damn reason even. They weren't trying to die, though. They just... They didn't know what they were doing.

Once Frisk has calmed down, a doctor comes in to check their stitches and vital. They're told they're very lucky to be alive. Frisk agrees. 

When the doctor pulls off to bandages to check the wounds, Frisk has to look away. They don't want to face what they've done.

"We're going to keep you here for a few days. It's going to be a seventy-two hour hold. A suicide watch."

Frisk just closes their eyes, guilt taking hold of them.

"A nurse will stay in your room at all times. Try to get some rest." 

After he leaves a nurse indeed walks in, sitting in a corner of the room with a book. She does her best to completely focus on her book, though. Which is a relief. Frisk doesn't know if they could handle someone's eyes on them at all times.

"Frisk..." They turn to their mom, who in in turn smooths back their hair. "We are going to get you a therapist. I don't think we can help you on our own anymore..." But, but they don't want to talk to anyone else!

Frisk's voice is small when they speak. "I wasn't trying to kill myself..."

"Even if you weren't, you still injured yourself very badly. You are lucky Asgore was able to heal you a little before the paramedics arrived. I'm sorry, Frisk, but that's final. You are going."

Tears sting their eyes again.

"Hey, kid. Come on, it won't be all bad. I used to see a therapist too. It helps, trust me." 

Frisk squeezes Sans' hand a little tighter at the reassurance. They're not getting out of this. All they can say is, 

"Ok." 

Everyone's relieved except for Frisk. A therapist can't help Frisk. They wouldn't even believe half of what Frisk would tell them. But if it makes everyone happy and think twice about sending them away... Frisk thinks they might be able to put up with it.

**Author's Note:**

> see ya space cowboy


End file.
